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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22381204">you fell into the wrong hands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/regularbroadcast/pseuds/regularbroadcast'>regularbroadcast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Hanging Out, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have a presentation due tomorrow, I use way too many commas, I will add a nb character and you cannot stop me, Jason Todd - Freeform, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason and Tim arent close at all in the start, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tim Drake is Red Robin, jason canon bi king, tim drake - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22381204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/regularbroadcast/pseuds/regularbroadcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shit. Jason thinks. Someone’s breaking in. His hands fly to the pistol sitting atop the library copy of The Great Gatsby. His eyes fly open and point down the barrel of the gun. On the other side of the gun, a bird sits patiently on his windowsill. </p><p>Not just any type of bird though. A Tim Drake type bird.</p><p>“Jason, I know you aren’t going to like this but can I stay here for a couple hours?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd, past Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you fell into the wrong hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! so basically this is my first ever fic I have posted! I hope you like it.  I want to make it clear that I honestly have no idea what I'm doing but yeah. I am currently working on this part-time but expect more updates soon because I'm a mess and this is the only way I can take my mind off things ahahah. also, you can talk to me or just follow me on my new twitter @jaybirdblues !</p><p>title from sundress by a$ap rocky</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sometimes Jason Todd just likes to lay down and let the world disappear around him in his safehouse. They were glorified naps at best, but they were important to him. A step in the right direction of forgetting. It started a few months ago after Dick bought him a Cure vinyl as an unexpected gift. Each time it happened, Jason would follow a routine. The first thing that would happen was to slide the vinyl out of its plastic sleeve, the faded plastic enveloping the record. He would carefully place it down on his record player, dusting carefully as to not damage the needle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the music started to flow through the expensive speakers he bought on bruce’s card without his knowledge, he moved onto making something that could calm his mindless nervousness. When his water boiled, Jason carefully placed one of his teabags into a mug and poured the water over. It was green tea, something that he absolutely loved drinking. Roy liked it too. In the beginning of Jason’s bi-weekly ‘forget the world’ Roy would sometimes join him. The only problem with Roy coming to these types of things is that the guy didn’t know how to sit still. Instead of relaxing in with the warm sound of vinyl, Jason would find himself with a terrible headache because of the Mario Kart noises emitting from the console Roy was playing on. So, Roy slowly wasn’t invited to these things, so Jason could have some goddamn peace and quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next thing to do was to open up the windows letting the nice Gotham summer breeze flow through his apartment. The press lied. Gotham doesn’t smell </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad. Once the windows stood ajar, screens stopping all unwanted guests, he moved to change into some softer and more comfortable clothes. A cotton tee and some light sweatpants were a sharp contrast to the regular body armor-filled cargo pants and kevlar. Vigilantes can’t really choose how comfortable their uniforms are. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Protection over comfort</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bruce used to say. The wind flew into his shirt, brushing it against his skin. The heat of the warm summer kept the goosebumps off him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason walked on the squeaky floorboards of his apartment, flopping onto his mattress on the floor. The sheets were warm from the glow of the sun, enveloping his body entirely. The sun crept slowly to the horizon and Jason drifted away from reality. The only noise was the record playing softly on the speakers and the subtle sounds of traffic floors below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About halfway through side A of the album, something stirs Jason slowly out of his sleep he fell into. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Click. Snaapp. Squeaakk.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Jason thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone’s breaking in</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His hands fly to the pistol sitting atop the library copy of The Great Gatsby. His eyes fly open and point down the barrel of the gun. On the other side of the gun, a bird sits patiently on his windowsill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not just any type of bird though. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tim Drake</span>
  </em>
  <span> type bird. He sat in his street clothes: a crewneck sweatshirt emblazoned with ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>GOTHAM KNIGHTS</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ and a pair of loose vintage levis, cuffed to show off his socks and tennis shoes. It didn’t match the current weather, but Tim Drake was probably one of those people who just randomly got cold sometimes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>here? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”, Jason grumbled while lowering the gun and placing it back on the book. Tim did a small jump off of the windowsill.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jason, I know you aren’t going to like this but can I stay here for a couple of hours? Please? B is mad at me, for good reason, and I really just don’t want to be at the manor right now,” Tim exclaims in a huff, giving Jason a weak smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about Conner, weren’t you dating him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We broke up a month ago”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn. Dick?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In Georgia surprisingly. Please, Jason, just this once? It’s the least a brother could do after trying to kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll finish the job too if you keep annoying me,” Jason retorted. Tim and him were not on the greatest terms when that happened. Still aren’t. But did he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to play ‘you tried to kill me’ card? “Fine, though,” He finally spits out after contemplating the consequences.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Jason. It means a lot,” Tim said through a wide but tired smile. He walked to the foot of the mattress on the floor, sitting down and slipping off his worn shoes. He could have gotten new shoes, he had the money for it, and Jason knew that. Hell, he used to run around with Bruce’s black card buying video games left and right. I guess he was going for the new vintage trend. Which in all honesty, Jason liked, especially with more people supporting thrift stores and second-hand stores. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what’s up with B?” Jason asked Tim, the grumble in his voice still prevalent post-nap. Jason stretched his hands behind his head, letting out a yawn and resting his eyelids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lots of shit, starting with the fact that I put myself in the way of danger even though it could have been avoided! B hated it, you especially would know that. Plus, I’ve been running on precisely ten hours of sleep over the past three days, which isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad for me, but still really bad,” Tim exclaims, sounding irritated at himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is stupid, I thought you’d learn from my mistakes, replacement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh don’t you start with that. You know I run on bad decisions usually influenced by my caffeine intake,” Tim spat out. He started to finally eye Jason’s apartment.  Stacked books found almost on everything, their covers without an ounce of dust on them as if they had only been picked up a mere hour or two ago. His eyes traveled from the books to the bed which currently contained a sleepy Jason wrapped in the cream white sheets. To the left of Jason sat a mug, probably once filled with coffee or something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tim, to be honest, I barely know you. All I know about you is what Dick tells me through his stories and however you act at family dinners Bruce makes us all go to,” Jason admitted. Those family dinners kind of sucked. Bruce would make them all come down to the manor for dinner so they could have some type of ‘normalcy’. And although Jason and the rest of the bat kids loved Alfred’s meals, it was hard to sit at a table with people you weren’t on the best of terms with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim stayed quiet for a minute or two as Jason sat up checking his phone which was previously on silent. The tone of the room changed as Tim glanced to the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That came off as rude, I’m sorry,” Jason apologized after tucking his phone away. “If you’re tired, the basket to your left has some blankets and pillows. I usually keep them for Roy or Kory when they mysteriously crash at my place but you’re welcome to use them. I get how Bruce can be, so might as well crash here too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Jason, I appreciate it,” Tim responded; a small smile found on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s around six-ish. Did you grab something to eat before exiling yourself?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I sadly had a half of a protein bar and then realized it expired a month ago.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would cook for you, but, I’m not in the mood to and I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a hot minute. Does Thai sound good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim nodded smiling eagerly now, his stomach forever thankful for the pad thai that would be sitting in it soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason and Tim spent the rest of the night eating food and talking a little more than they would at a family dinner.  The sun finally began to touch the horizon, pouring orange light into the apartment. It made Jason’s skin glow a little bit, making him resemble some sort of god-like being. The sun suited him. Tim didn’t mind the sun, but was much more in love with the night, in true bat kid style. Later that evening, Jason picked up The Great Gatsby again, murmuring on about how Bruce could be Gatsby if he really wanted to with all his fancy money. He also told Tim he could pick up any book he wanted if he was interested in some literature before sleep. Tim chose The Outsiders, one of his favorite books from his adolescence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night ended with Jason back asleep on his mattress, laying starfish with the sheets rumpled around him. Tim was the opposite. He laid in the fetal position on the floor completely swaddled in blankets, his arm sticking out just barely, holding the book open to the page he was one. It was quiet for Gotham as they slept.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jason woke up, Tim wasn’t there. His pillow and blankets were folded and stacked neatly in the basket and there looked to be a tiny post-it on top, something Tim definitely stole from one of Jason’s drawers. Jason rolled out of his bed, untucking himself from the covers he wrapped himself in during the night. He walked over to the basket and picked up the little pale yellow note.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks, Jay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     - Tim</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>beep me at my twitter @jaybirdblues!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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